


You're a Risk I can't Calculate

by wherethewordsare



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherethewordsare/pseuds/wherethewordsare
Summary: There are those in Geralt's life that see the danger he's in. Geralt sees it too, but can't be bothered.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	You're a Risk I can't Calculate

“Geralt!” Lambert crowed, throwing an arm around his shoulders before he could sit down in the booth. “Here we were thinking you’d forgotten us, chasing that bard of yours off to who knows where,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. 

Geralt pushed him off, rolling his eyes as he squeezed in next to Eskel in the booth. Eskel patted him on the back and passed him an ale, giving him an apologetic look. 

“Seriously, Wolf, you look…” Lambert looked him over, frowning slightly, “happier.” There was something almost accusatory in his tone. 

Eskel shot him a look and suddenly Geralt felt like this was less a meet-up to travel together back to Kaer Morhen and more an intervention. So this was how it was going to be. 

“Say it,” Geralt growled, suddenly feeling defensive. Jaskier wasn’t even here and he felt the sudden unstoppable urge to protect him, even from his brothers. 

“Geralt, we don’t mean to-” Eskal started

“He’s going to make you soft and it’s going to get you killed,” Lambert said flatly. “We’re witchers, Geralt. It’s dangerous.” 

There was a loud thud under the table and Lambert cursed into his drink.

“Geralt, we’re worried is all. Last year you came back with far more fresh scars than you have before,” Eskel reasoned. It almost sounded like it made sense until. “We think maybe you traveling without the bard next season would be better for you both, get you both out of danger.”

He sat there in silence, his stomach roiling. He never expected them to understand, but he would have never thought that his brothers would be adamant about him leaving Jaskier behind. 

“No, and that’s the end of it,” he said through gritted teeth before sliding back out of the booth and making his way to his room for the night. 

The next morning the trek back to Kaer Morhen was tense and silent but they would get over it. Geralt ignored the part of him that tugged him back towards Oxenfurt, back to the warm bed he had left three days before to meet his brothers. It would still be there in the spring. 

\--

“Why am I not surprised to see you here,” Yen clucked her tongue at him as he trudged out of the muck. 

“Yennefer.” He said in a way of greeting, the drowner’s head tapping against his thigh. 

She wrinkled her nose but reached out a hand to pull him back onto solid ground anyways. “Do you know where I can find this?” She held out a sketch of a flower with pointed leaves and delicately curved flowers. 

“Who are you trying to black mail now?” He asked, figuring there was only one use for a plant like that. He fell into step beside her, wincing at the ache in his knee where the drowner had tried to slash him. 

“Nothing for you to worry about, witcher,” she smirked. “I hear you have that bard with you. Surprised he’s not hiding in the trees trying to get material for his newest ballad,” she scoffed. 

Geralt almost felt it before she started, inwardly sighing. 

“You know, that never made sense to me,” She cocked her head as though trying to puzzle something out. 

“What’s to make sense of, Jaskier travels with me, I travel with Jaskier. There’s nothing more to it.” He shrugged. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes, her hand idly plucking a twig from a low branch as they passed. “You know what I mean, Geralt.” 

“Hmm,” he scowled at the ground. His leg was starting to itch. Jaskier was going to fuss at him about getting muck into it and the thought of that alone eased him slightly. 

“He’s fragile for one. Mortal besides. What happens when you inevitably out-live him and lose your edge over sentiment, Geralt. What then?” She snapped the twig easily between her fingers, the greenwood frayed as she let it drop to the ground without a second thought. 

It wasn’t something he didn’t worry about but it was something he didn’t have to worry about right then. 

“Nothing for you to worry about, mage,” he growled, trudging on ahead. 

“I won’t be there to be your bed warmer when he’s gone,” she called after him. His medallion vibrated slightly, signaling her leaving by portal. He limped the rest of the way back to town feeling slightly colder than he had a moment before. 

\--

Jaskier was dozing against a tree at the edge of their camp, his bare legs stretched out into the sun, his lute in his lap. He looked like peace and home and safety. Geralt slipped out of his armor and moved to press in alongside him, their thighs pressed together.

Jaskier slumped in against him, resting his head on Geralt’s shoulder. “You took longer than I thought you would,” he yawned, stretching a bit before pressing closer, despite the heat. 

In the shade of the tree, Geralt could see the grey that looked more blonde in the direct sun starting to come in at Jaskier’s temples and he ached a bit at the thought. 

Time would never move the same for him as it did Jaskier. 

“I can hear you thinking, dear heart,” Jaskier peaked up at him, smiling softly. “What is it? You look like someone insulted Roach.” 

Geralt huffed softly. “Not Roach.”

“I would hope not. Roach is out best girl, aren’t you Roach?” Jaskier called over only for Roach to look back and flick her ears back. 

“Jaskier?” Time moved differently for them both but that didn’t have to mean what others thought it did. Geralt could still give part of himself up for a moment and live with that for the rest of his life, couldn’t he? Would it make him unfeeling if he survived losing Jaskier in the end?

“Hmm?” Jaskier was still half dozing, his face now turning into Geralt’s neck, his breath puffing warm and damp under his ear. 

_ You’re the most dangerous thing I have ever touched and I’m terrified.  _ He thought. He shifted slightly, letting his still booted foot bump gently into Jaskier’s. Maybe he would know, maybe he would understand without Geralt having to say it. Maybe Jaskier would spend how many ever years they had left and know that saying the words would somehow make Geralt weaker and he couldn’t risk it, even if it did make his bones ache in a way no monster could touch. 

Or maybe… 

“Do you still want to go to the coast?” Geralt breathed, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s temple. Some dangers were just worth the risk. 


End file.
